In romance, external conflicts don’t exist or are only to enable the inner and relational conflicts, which take center stage. Those kinds of conflicts don’t violate God’s involvement in our lives since God doesn’t force someone to love God and their neighbor. It is usually up to the characters to resolve those issues.

Which may explain why romance dominates Christian fiction. Speculative fiction, which tends to be as dependent upon external conflict as it is upon internal/relational conflict, if not more so, runs aground on the conflicting expectations between the Gospel and an engaging story.

But I’m convinced this is a fruit and not the root of the real reason.

[Y]ou’re not really answering the “why” question concerning the disparity between romance and spec fic compared between the general and Christian markets, and in this case, you’re addressing the motivation for romance’s dominance among readers. But I don’t think it tells us much about why romance succeeded and spec fic didn’t [among Christian readers].

The only reason I cite the possibility of escapism playing into the popularity of romance novels (or period-drama TV shows, etc.) among Christians is that many Christians wrongly conclude that a certain genre is perfectly safe. Some believe it is “safe” not because romance is free of temptation — it’s not — but because it is closer to what many American Christians do: venerate marriage and especially Family. But these good desires can also be corrupted. They’re not “safe.”

Now I’ll flesh out what I mean.

Why do most Christians love romance over fantastical fiction when both can be escapist?

The answer is found in the default belief of American evangelicals about their “chief end.”

Is the Gospel about a Good Life today based on healthy marriages and family values?

Or is the Gospel about an epic story of a Hero Who saves people from evil for His Kingdom?

How you answer will determine your favorite fiction.

Christians agree on the basics of faith: that Jesus Christ, Who is both God and man, died to save sinners.2 But many Christians disagree on what comes next: how do we live in light of that Gospel?

Choice 1: ‘Family Christianity’

A particularly American flavor of evangelical faith makes the Christian’s mission quite limited. It is based on pragmatic contemporary needs. A good Christian must make it his/her goal to build a healthy marriage, raise a nice family, avoid interference by powerful government leaders, and learn the true meaning of life: that home is where the heart is. It emphasizes moral values and the success or decline of the nation, not necessarily for the common-grace good of everyone in society but for personal family safety. And it rarely gets to discussing eternity because it keeps running up against that dreaded great barrier of End Times Speculation (which is the most “speculative faith” this version of faith usually offers).

Call this Family Christianity. It seeks to put family first and all other concerns second, such as the invisible Church and local church, Biblical social justice, and Christ-imaging art.

Choice 2: Kingdom Christianity

Historic Christian faith in all Biblical denominations does not discount marriage, family, or even political advocacy in perspective. But it does rank them as means to a greater end. The greater end is the Story found in the Bible, the story of Jesus Christ’s hero journey first as suffering servant then as King, to save humans and then the cosmos from evil. This view emphasizes life in eternity when Christ will rule and fill the world with His love and glory.

Call this Kingdom Christianity. It usually seeks to put Christ’s Gospel and Kingdom first and other concerns second — love and marriage, family, home, education, political action.

Family Christianity —> romantic fiction

If you quietly accept Family Christianity — which is often based on genuine saving faith but does limit the Gospel’s joyful applications — what stories will you most find acceptable?

You will presume that “clean” evangelical romantic fiction, with its emphasis on love and marriage (and family, in the story or assumed to follow), is the “safest” or most spiritual genre. This is joined by a default posture of belief that “it’s just entertainment” or “it’s just a story,” which often — not always — is used to excuse a personal failure to discern.

You will care little for fantastical stories (beyond Disney movies for children), not based on objections to fantasy magic, but simply because they’re not even on your radar screen.

If life’s chief end is marriage and family, why bother with stories based on other themes?

Kingdom Christianity —> fantastical fiction

But if you quietly accept Kingdom Christianity — a larger view of the bigger Biblical picture of what Christ the King is doing to bring in His Kingdom — what stories will you prefer?

You will likely veer toward fantastical stories whose creators (knowingly or not) honor the original Christian emphasis on epic struggles, mythic hero journeys, and the inheritance of fantasy tales from medieval history — all of which are blessed with a Christian foundation.

After all, even great “secular” fantastical fiction has withstood erosion by Christo-American pragmatism. With few exceptions, even these stories’ secular notions are only veneer; their structure is based on historic Christian themes of good versus evil, heroes who reflect the original Chosen One Hero of Christ, a Church of the Chosen One’s friends who announce the true Kingdom, and fantastic worlds where abstract spiritual concepts are personified and Biblical history is reflected by imagined supernatural activity and monsters and villains.

Apply

That’s my explanation.

I leave you to discuss possible applications. But I suggest they should start with this:

Let’s help change the vision of the Christian “good life,” starting with ourselves.

How to do this? Start with conversations, sermons, and books about how Kingdom Christianity is based on Christ’s epic Story, which changes the world for eternity and expands our joy.

Even better, we need better stories about this — stories that can sneak past conservative Family Christians’ watchful dragons.

In fact, I’ll close with a direct challenge for wise and shrewd Christian romantic fiction writers: go undercover. Create an enjoyable and conservative-Christian-friendly romance novel that will quietly, subversively challenge the very Family Christianity on which most of the Christian romance fandom is based. Take down Family Christian assumptions about “safe” fiction from the inside.

Yes, I’m about to critique “American” things on Independence Day weekend. Coincidence. ↩

And that is good; I will not judge this. All who believe this are spiritual family. ↩

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Doesn’t this imply that the way for Christian speculative fiction to succeed is to find a way to connect with the target audience that already exists?

It does.

To lapse into “shop talk” for a moment, I’m grateful for those authors called to do so.

Yet my special interest is in helping to educate more Christians — as I’m learning myself — how Scripture actually encourages us to engage with the world including popular culture, out of gratitude for our Savior and love for His truth and holiness.

Every day this broader goal threatens to overtake my love for seeking and promoting fantastical fiction that reflects the Story. But the broader goal can only help the other!

Yet my special interest is in helping to educate more Christians — as I’m learning myself — how Scripture actually encourages us to engage with the world including popular culture, out of gratitude for our Savior and love for His truth and holiness.

And I enjoy the articles you write where you do that: your recent one about superheroes, for example, echoed a lot of experiences I’ve had. But this article here seems more insistent on educating people who “out of gratitude for our Savior and love for His truth and holiness” are enjoying a different part of culture.

Quite frankly, this article feels a lot like preaching to the choir: you’re sure to get a lot of “Amens,” but the people you’re speaking about aren’t likely to read it or care about your points. I don’t know that Christian romance readers need to be educated about why they enjoy the books they do.

I’m not at all saying, “This is why most/certain readers enjoy romantic fiction,” or “anyone who enjoys romantic fiction must be doing so because of XYZ beliefs.”

I’m saying, “I think this may explain why Christian readers suspect or believe that romantic fiction alone is ‘safer’ or more spiritual: It’s because of XYZ beliefs about Christianity that are popular in American evangelicalism.” And I’m not the first to identify “American dream”-style Christianity, or over-veneration of family values.

Stephen, I appreciate and admire your zeal. You’ve provided a lot of good teaching for us here at Spec Faith.

But I have to strongly disagree with the tone of this discussion. Why are we setting up a false dichotomy, as if we have “win” a war that doesn’t need to be fault or “solve” a problem that doesn’t exist? There’s room for everyone, including romance readers, who are not spiritually immature or less joyful or more needy simply because they like to read a different kind of book than we do.

The ACFW used to be the American Christian Romance Writers, founded in 2000 by some writers who had very specific goals. They eventually expanded their membership to include others who didn’t write the same genre and even changed their names to be more inclusive. Now we (the in-grafted branches, as it were) are calling them out? For being what, exactly? More financially successful?

I truly do not wish to believe the worst in our community. But continuing to focus on “them” versus “us” is counterproductive and depressing. I’m all for championing our cause, but not in a way that provokes division or stigmatizes another group.

Michelle, I suggest you’re seeing an intent to stigmatize or critique that isn’t mine.

Why are we setting up a false dichotomy, as if we have “win” a war that doesn’t need to be fault or “solve” a problem that doesn’t exist?

I believe that “Family Christianity” is the problem, not romantic fiction fandom.

There’s room for everyone, including romance readers, who are not spiritually immature or less joyful or more needy simply because they like to read a different kind of book than we do.

Agreed.

This is why I’m not critiquing a certain genre. I’m challenging some of the beliefs behind some of its fandom. Elsewhere I’ve done plenty of challenging of beliefs that lie behind fantastical fiction fandom — e.g., “we need to promote these books because we need ‘grittiness’ or we need secular fans to realize Christianity is actually extremely very hip.” It occurs to me that I actually spend most of my time doing this. 🙂 One of my special interests is also defending certain aspects of evangelical culture that some younger Christians consider iredeemable. Once in a while it’s nice to take a break and admit that yes, Christian culture has issues.

The ACFW used to be the American Christian Romance Writers, founded in 2000 by some writers who had very specific goals. […]

I’m not addressing The Industry or any groups — only a motive behind some of the fanbase. My axiom here is not, “All fans who like Genre X are evil.” My axiom is, “No story is safe. Therefore the stories you believe are ‘safe’ are the most dangerous.”

I truly do not wish to believe the worst in our community. But continuing to focus on “them” versus “us” is counterproductive and depressing.

So far I hope that I’ve erred on the side of challenging and discussing issues with “us” — particularly some of the shallower reasons that are used to advocate better and more fantastical fiction by Christians. And I hope that the above article did not pick on any fans but rather beliefs that fans may have — and may need to address. “Family Christianity” is absolutely a thing among American evangelicals and must be challenged. In fact, this can only lead to better stories among all fiction genres. Thus my call for any romantic fiction writers out there to take a crack at writing the formulaic “family-friendly” Christian romance that turns out to be a pointed yet affectionate critique of the “family friendly” concept (you don’t need to have sex scenes to do this, just dashed cleverness). I’d buy this book, read it, stump for it.

It calls out the genre by name, and “rules” implies a sizable majority of fans, not “some.” And there’s this:

Family Christianity —> romantic fiction

Directly tying the genre to a theological/cultural mindset you’ve identified as specious and destructive.

I understand the need for a little bombast to draw readers and stimulate discussion (hey, it worked for me), but it makes it harder to credibly backpedal and insist the picture was meant to be drawn with a sharp pencil rather than a paint roller.

I agree the “family Christianity” trend is a problem worthy of discussion, but it might have been better to address it as an issue across all Christian fiction, or simply on its own as a general Church-culture problem. As is, it feels more like an attempt to fix a broken readership that isn’t buying the “right” books.

the article’s title […] calls out the genre by name, and “rules” implies a sizable majority of fans, not “some.”

This is why this is so tricky to say.

I’m seeking here to identify a series of cultural assumptions that lead to the genre’s dominance — similar to how R.L. Copple wondered if it’s affected by majority Christian assumptions about how God helps us versus how He expects us to exercise our own wills. Here I do presume a few truths as self-evident:

Evangelical Christianity in the USA has a large population of folks who believe that the religion is, more or less, about family values and such.

Romantic genres dominates among the evangelical fiction readership.

Among those readers are people who presume that romantic fiction is a “safer” or more-spiritual genre and who see little point to fantastical stuff.

My central point remains this: there is an identifiable similarity between folks who believe “family values” is spiritually better in fiction and that “family values” is spiritually better in nonfiction.

That’s the only “if/then” correlation I’ve posited.

All the other stuff is outside the scope of this particular article: majorities, whether this is also reflected in other genres, even statistical “proof.”

My challenge is not to fix a readership but to remind anyone: no story is safe.

I’d say the same about fantastical fiction too. But that wasn’t this article’s focus.

Here’s a little more from another discussion (slightly edited for clarity here):

I do not here nitpick an Industry or you or friends.

I’m thinking mainly of the folks I would see flocking to the Christian bookstores to snap up the stuff like candy. (If this were reversed — say, if I worked at a secular comic store — I’d undoubtedly have another life emphasis.)

There’s a seemingly small but actually huge distinction between the worldview of the story and the worldview of the reader. I’m speaking (as I often try to do) of fan response, not author/publisher intent or Writing Industry. And within that limitation I’m speaking of people who already presume that a certain genre is superior because it is “safe” and “family friendly”. I’m challenging those assumptions where they are present. And it sounds like we share the opinion that these notions do exist.

I do believe that if all Family Christianism assumptions vanished tomorrow, people would still want to read or watch romantic fiction. They should. And I do believe that in such a crazy event we would still have romantic fiction — albeit more-thoughtful stuff. And yet I think readers might see it a little bit more in perspective and there would be less opportunity to think the genre more spiritual.

I know, right? It doesn’t help that there are some old farts who explicitly define adulthood as “married with kids.” The particular article that I read was whining about how young men play video games and don’t get hitched and don’t start popping out kids, and this is bad because it damages the Church because no leadership and responsibility, somehow. I plan to never darken the door of any church that advocates that.

I like that term–“family Christianity.” For one, it shows a perspective that is not based on wrong things, but on over-emphasizing a ‘good thing.’ It also explains some of the artistic/liberal arts perspectives on culture. If the highest good of Christianity is the family, then why bother with aesthetically pleasing buildings or stimulating fiction or the environment?

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Laura A

I agree about the need to get rid of the “us vs. them” mentality. I have been getting into Mere Christianity once again, by CS Lewis and (I believe) our writing should be out there to reach all, not but in a box of any specific genre. We have all been saved only by faith and who knows how each of books will be taken, how someone may come to Christ upon reading or be led closer to Him.

Interesting break down. Here are some potential issues I see that need addressing.

Family Christianity

I know what you’re trying to say, but that needs defining. From my experience, few are the Christians that would say the end goal of Christianity is family and marriage. It is an important part of the end goal, but not the end goal. But if you don’t love your brother who you do see, how can you love God who you do not see, a wise apostle once said.

So, does the fact I wrote a non-fiction book on marriage called Healing Infidelity put me in that group? Yet, I can count on one hand the number of romance books I’ve read in my 54 years of life.

Also, while deductively those in that group, however big they may be, would gravitate to romance, that would be one sub-group in a larger over all group of romance readers. Which if true, means it doesn’t account for the wider market of Christian romance readers, only a smaller segment.

Or if your intent was to imply the converse to be true–most romance readers are Family Christians–then you’ve ascribed a belief to romance readers in general, with no supporting evidence, that many of them would no doubt dispute. Some might even consider you are relegating romance readers to a sub-par version of Christianity. I don’t think that is your intent, but you’d probably need to clarify it.

Kingdom Christianity

True that Jesus follows the hero’s journey in many ways. The central focus of the atonement is in Jesus defeating death, Hell, and the grave by His death and resurrection.

The problem comes in, based on my post that you quoted, in that Christ did that for us. Our hero journey is to let the Lord fight our fights. To glory in our weaknesses so that God’s power can be glorified. That goes against us having such a hero journey.

I don’t believe we can’t have a Christian version of the hero journey, but it may not be as emotionally satisfying to readers of spec fic who expect the hero to be the hero, not God.

The problem comes in, based on my post that you quoted, in that Christ did that for us. Our hero journey is to let the Lord fight our fights. To glory in our weaknesses so that God’s power can be glorified. That goes against us having such a hero journey.

I’m no theologian, but I disagree with this emphasis. Part of what makes evangelical faith seem so boring and sappy to children who grow up in it is that it never validates our experience — it never gives us permission to be real people who are doing real things, because God has done everything for us.

I believe in substitutionary atonement, but I don’t think it explains everything. We’re supposed to be little Christ-figures; we’re supposed to suffer our own death to self; we’re to follow Christ’s footsteps in His mission. As the hymn put it, “Ours the Cross, the Grave, the Skies.”

Part of what makes evangelical faith seem so boring and sappy to children who grow up in it is that it never validates our experience…

Um, am I allowed to not be bored?

Seriously, bainespal, I appreciate whatever trials you’ve faced. I recognize there are a lot of people (some with very good, compelling reasons) who are disenchanted with the churches they grew up in. I just don’t happen to fall in that group.

I’m also confused by the idea that the church doesn’t give us permission to do “real” things. Most of the complaints I see from people are that churches always want you to work. Could you elaborate further on what you mean? I truly wish to understand, since it’s not something I’ve encountered.

Well, my biggest complaint is that I took Bible reading so seriously that I freaked out and convinced myself that I had committed the unpardonable sin. I was 17, so I should have been too old for that mindset. I believed that my feelings about the Bible as I read it was genuine interaction with the Holy Spirit. But that’s not directly relevant here.

Copple’s comment annoyed me because it appears to reject deeper significance in my suffering — in our suffering as first-world Christians who aren’t being persecuted for our faith. I’m talking about suffering in a general, universal way. I’ve never been abused. I don’t have a sob story. But I want my story to mean something. I know that I’m supposed to be a harmless sheep, but I hope that I can also a pilgrim.

The people at my church have never understood my pessimistic personality. They say that the empty cross is better than the crucifix, because Jesus is alive. I believe that Jesus is alive, and that is the source of all hope. However, I believe that the human experience is Jesus being crucified. We haven’t been resurrected yet. We haven’t even totally died yet. And we are supposed to suffer and die with Jesus, so that we can also be raised with Him.

He did not suffer so that we would not have to suffer. He suffered so that we could experience the suffering of being awake instead of lulled to sleep by the world. He did not die so that we would not have to die. He died so that we could share His death, and also share His resurrected life.

I dunno if that’s the healthiest theology, bainespal. But I’m with you in not liking the kind of theology that minimizes human action, making us like dolls or chess pieces for Satan and/or God to shove around at their whim. Though I’m talking about action and not suffering. I’m also pessimistic in that I see at least some amount of suffering as pretty well unavoidable, so I think the important part is how we handle it.

Well, I can tell you why I, for one, am disenchanted with my parents’ church, though disenchanted doesn’t seem like the right word. Frankly, I was bored. Sermons that retread the same old messages and themes, not to mention the dearth of people my age. And I dunno that it’s gotten much better, because I’m getting pretty bored with the Methodist church I go to most frequently since the sermons are nearly as stale as homechurch’s and I still don’t have bros there. I might switch over permanently to the Presbyterians across the street, since the pastor is under forty and speaks my language. Though my most dynamic church experience is with the Baptist singles’ small-group I go to Sunday nights, because it’s more interactive and less people-talking-at-us. I have bros there. And I can do something to minimize the Baptistiness because of the interactivity.

So it’s the societal factor that’s strongest for me, which can sound pretty shallow, but church does fulfill a social function and not just a theological one.

Yeah, the problem is that again we’re isolating one aspect of the spiritual walk as some people experience it and making it an ideal when it shouldn’t be. For passive people, the idea that we can’t do anything and that Christian sanctification is something that just washes over us is one of the most harmful beliefs you can have. For us, we need to be told to go on the hero’s journey, because our personality and our struggles with sin are different. Some people need to be told to let go and let God, but some of us really need to be told to step up and act and God will then act with us.

No worries, bainespal. That focus doesn’t negate suffering and its meaning at all. If God is glorified in our weakness, that includes suffering on our part that has its meaning inherent in God’s glory. The great faith chapter of Hebrews 11 is a good example. While some of the examples seem “successful,” others would be said to have no faith by some folks, because by outward appearance, they seemed to have lost: sawed in two. stoned, scourgings, imprisonment, etc. (Heb 11:36-38)

By the world’s standards, their “hero journey” was an utter failure, and not too many people would feel a spec fic story where the protagonist ends up dying a horrible death and evil appearing to win as a good story. Only in the context of the resurrection and God’s bigger plan is it a victory. Not because the person suffering (or succeeding as the case may be) had the ability and skill to ultimately save themselves, but based on what God did for them. God defeated death.

” I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” (Phil. 4:13)

I’m merely pointing out that our hero journey will not look like Christ’s, and very likely not like the hero journeys in much of general market spec fic. That goes back to the inner dissonance I was noting in my post.

That said, where Steve may have a point is our appreciation of Jesus’ hero journey draws us to stories of other hero journey’s, even if they are not Christ nor perfectly reflect a Christian depiction of our hero journeys.

But just because the Christian is dependent upon Christ to “win” doesn’t negate any meaning of suffering. Winning in God’s eyes isn’t the same as it would be in a spec fic story. Many of us live it, me included, being I struggle with progressive Parkinson’s disease that has already slowed my typing speed to around 300 words an hour. If God can use my suffering to win, I win. Ultimately our hero journey is to trust God, which is what I tried to depict in my Reality Chronicles series. But that is hard without running into the problems I’ve been talking about.

I know what you’re trying to say, but that needs defining. From my experience, few are the Christians that would say the end goal of Christianity is family and marriage.

Say, no.

But actions speak louder than words.

That does not mean that “family values” are worthless. But the instant a Christian believes this good gift cannot be an idol, too late — it’s already become one.

I can illustrate with one example. Christian blogger Phil Johnson (a pastor at Grace Community Church in California) once posted a simple thought on Facebook about how homeschooling is not the only option for believers and how this is an area of freedom for believers. The responses of hatred and accusations of “compromise” against him were astounding. I joined the discussion and asked my usual question — which I hope first to ask of myself constantly — about whether it was even theoretically possible to turn a good gift of family, children, “family values,” etc., into an idol. No one wanted to admit this. One person brazenly claimed that yes, such a good thing was impossible to turn into an idol. I had to say: Busted.

So, does the fact I wrote a non-fiction book on marriage called Healing Infidelity put me in that group? Yet, I can count on one hand the number of romance books I’ve read in my 54 years of life.

I think there’s some misunderstanding here.

I’m not speaking at all to those who work in family-and-marriage-related ministries or whose true calling from God is to apply Biblical Gospel truths to these areas.

I am speaking solely about people who are overemphasizing and possibly even making idols out of good gifts such as marriage, family, and “family values.”

And I am saying: If you believe or suspect that romantic fiction is spiritually superior to other stories, you likely accept Family Christianity. There is the difference: I don’t fault. fans who simply say, “I happen to like romantic fiction better.” I do critique the “I read this because I suspect it’s the only ‘allowed’ or most spiritual kind of fiction book that I could read for entertainment” fans.

(And if the article were about fans who believe fantastical fiction is better, I’d have other critiques in mind — starting with critiques of my own myth-acceptances.)

Or if your intent was to imply the converse to be true–most romance readers are Family Christians–then you’ve ascribed a belief to romance readers in general, with no supporting evidence, that many of them would no doubt dispute.

I’m not addressing the question of how many readers have this assumption about Family Christianity. It’s impossible to quantify such things. But when many pastors and authors are raising the question about how much Christians have bought into “the American dream” and slowly began basing our faith on this health-wealth-and-morals “prosperity gospel,” I can show that this is an issue. And I invite SpecFaith readers who were incidentally raised to believe that “family/American values” was the sum total of Christian practice to confirm this anecdotally.

The only new thing I’m saying is, “This has an effect on Christians’ favorite fiction.”

To be fair, there are nonreligious people who are stark-raving BONKERS when it comes to children and parenting. Just check out stfuparentsblog.com. Though you might make a case for Christians being worse about it if they do conflate parenthood with religion, because crazy seems to just get crazier when perceived moral superiority is mixed in.

Thanks, Steven, for the clarification. I knew there was a line being draw, but didn’t know where. Thus the need to ask for clarification. I can follow your reasoning better.

The only caution I’d throw out is often only God knows when someone has made an idol out of something. While certain external actions and words, like bowing to an idol, generally are an indication, you have examples like Lamach (sp) who Elijah healed of leprosy and was granted by the prophet that though he would be required to bow to his master’s idols, he didn’t worship them, but God. Ultimately idols are made in the heart. There could be a fine line between someone who feels family is an important issue and actually making it into an idol for their life. It can be very subjective to declare any one person has done so based on external responses.

But I agree, someone who is doing that, and deems family-oriented fiction to be the only spiritually safe fiction, is setting themselves up for deception.